Free Me
by hoppnhorn
Summary: Rollo struggles with his stubborn English slave. Rated M for possible future chapters?
1. Chapter 1

The day had started plainly. The rains had made the ground soggy and the air thick, and Rollo had slept through the morning, listening to the endless tickle of water on the roof above him. The only reason he was rising at all was for the fire.

She would let it go out, just to spite him.

The "her" being Eda. His slave. His stubborn, good-for-nothing slave. Rollo often wondered what had possessed him to keep her around for the months that he had. She was English, speaking in her native tongue when she knew he didn't understand it. He figured she was probably damning him to Helheim and back, not that she followed the true gods. He'd caught her on her knees more than once, her hands folded in prayer.

That morning, however, was not one for prayer. Rollo knew the woman would still be in bed, glaring at him with dark eyes when he emerged into the main room of his home. She looked at him that way whenever he appeared, because she hated him. He was sure of that. Eda hated his eyes on her, even though he'd made it clear that he could never let her out of his sight.

It was solely a trust issue. More than once, he'd been forced to hunt her down and wrestle her into submission in the tall grass. But she'd never begged. Never cried. Her determination had never led to desperation.

And as the days had passed, he'd understood that her behavior might improve if his treatment of her did as well. So Rollo had given her better clothes, fed her the good parts of his kills, and made sure her needs were taken care of. In many ways, he'd found himself trying to please her, make her like him.

Which was foolish, because even now, months after her capture, he was dragging himself out of bed to ensure the fire stayed lit in the house. To prevent the cold from seeping inside, he had to play the role of slave. Because his slave would rather freeze than help him in anyway.

When he stepped into the main room, his eyes fell on her figure immediately. And despite the silence between them, and the endless hostility in her stares, Rollo's chest warmed when he saw her face. Sleeping peacefully in her cot, Eda was like a siren, the glow of the fire lighting up her tanned cheeks with gold. That light danced across her closed eyes, shimmering like twinkling stars.

His brow creased as he realized the fire was still lit. In fact, it was healthy, blazing as though it had been stoked only moments ago. He saw the fresh pile of wet wood, the soggy tracks from the outdoors, and the damp dress settled on a chair nearby. Rollo looked back at Eda once more.

She was watching him, her gaze daring him to speak. Her hair was damp and the top of her bare shoulder was visible from under the blanket.

Rollo was aroused by the mere idea of seeing the flawless skin on the rest of her body. He'd caught glimpses while monitoring her baths, but nothing more than brief flashes of pale skin.

"You stare, Northman." Her voice sent a jolt to his spine, forcing him straighter where he stood. Rollo pushed away the thoughts of her body and focused on the depth of his breath.

"I do." He muttered, crossing the room to glance out the front entrance of the house. It was still pouring, the ground a mess of mud and puddles. "The willing completion of your chores left me stunned."

She snorted and Rollo knew she would be smirking, as she often did. Lying naked under a thick brown blanket, she would be smirking at him. His trousers tightened.

"Do not mistake my dislike of the cold for obedience." Eda murmured, the blanket rustling at his back. Rollo turned to reply, but came to an abrupt halt.

Eda had rolled over in her cot, her hair cascading over her shoulder. He tried not to think about the long arch of her spine. Instead, he studied the rope that hung out of her cot. He didn't like the fact that he had to tie her up like an animal. It bothered him a lot more than he'd like to admit. But, then again, Ragnar had pointed out that even a slave could slit your throat in the night.

"Get up." He spoke curtly, clomping towards her. Eda, as he expected, did nothing of the sort. Without hesitation, he gripped the bottom of the blanket and pulled it back to reveal her ankles. She sat upright so quickly, her head nearly cracked him in the forehead. Or maybe that had been her intention.

"If you touch me…" His hand ran along the rope until it reached her ankle, the small, delicate joint ensnared cruelly in the rough fibers. It wasn't too tight as to harm her, but he knew it couldn't have been comfortable.

Then again, it didn't matter. From the rain and the mud, she could have slipped the damn thing off. The sad state of the rope told him that much. And as he stared at it, he realized that Eda could have easily left and never come back. Her words may have remained sharp, but her spirit had faltered. Looking into her eyes, he saw the truth in them. He had broken her. She had given up trying to run.

A pang of sadness tightened his chest.

In a sudden movement, he pulled the dagger from his side and brought it to her leg. Eda inhaled as if to yell, but he cut the rope from her ankle too quickly. The silence fell like the rope to the floor. All he could do was breathe, trying his best to collect his thoughts.

"If you wish to run, then go." He couldn't look in her eyes. He just couldn't bring himself to do it.

"I will not be tricked, Northman." Her words were breathy and, for the first time, not spoken with hatred. Why it pained him to cut her loose was a mystery. A hateful slave was nothing of value.

"No tricks. Go." He turned and walked to the fire. "I will not chase you."

She made no sound for quite some time. But when her weight made the floor creak, Rollo had to swallow back the feeling in his throat. He was disappointed…

And he would miss her.

When she walked into view, she was holding the blanket under her armpits, clutching it to her body. He watched without turning his head. And she stared directly into his eyes as she passed, her expression flat and unreadable. Then suddenly she marched towards the kitchen.

"My clothes aren't dry." Her tone was neutral yet soft, and Rollo's chest warmed. "Besides, this is not a day for running."

And as she started to clang around in his sad little kitchen, Rollo found himself envisioning her as an old woman. An elder. Her long hair faded and grey, but braided as a symbol of authority.

He saw her as a Viking.

* * *

Might do a few more snippets of these two. Lemme know if you like that idea.  
Lots of love back to the Viking fandom! You guys are awesome.


	2. Chapter 2

In the mid-afternoon, the sun felt like a blanket on his shoulders. The heat was heavy on his skin, the sweat dripping from his brow as he hauled the ax into the sky over and over again. Rollo had never thought himself a farmer, but when he'd taken over some land, he'd found a strange peace in the heavy labor in a field. His brother hadn't been content to stay a simple farmer. Maybe one day Rollo would grow tired of the task as well. Currently, however, he was blissfully numb as he worked to chop a tree stump from the ground. It would take a while to reduce the strong wood to a flat surface; yet Rollo didn't mind. He felt the strain in his back and thighs, but the fatigue made him feel stronger. With the sun beating down on him, he felt like a god, his golden skin glowing from the sheen of sweat.

A clamor in the distance broke his repetitive meditation, and Rollo stopped chopping to glance over his shoulder.

From what he could see, the locals were gathering for the days' work. Women were fishing, men were plowing and sowing the land. And Eda was outside the house, her hands set squarely on her hips as she glared at a man sitting nearby…in the river.

Rollo sighed and rubbed the spot between his eyes. Almost a week after cutting her loose, she'd broken a worker's toe with a shovel when the man had tried to touch her intimately. While Rollo admired her courage, a slave cannot strike a man. And he'd been put in a difficult situation.

On the one hand, he had to protect the rights of his fellows. As a slave, Eda wasn't allowed the rights of a Viking man. If he didn't punish her, the men would make a stink. It wouldn't be long before he would be considered less than a man.

On the other hand, however, Rollo couldn't harm Eda. Not even to make a show. Everyone had expected him to beat her right then and there, to strike her until she begged for his mercy. But his hand had wavered when she'd offered her jaw. It wasn't that he couldn't hit a woman. As a warrior, he'd faced many foes, and some had been women. Not only a man could wield a sword. Yet, standing over Eda, Rollo had known that his hand would never cause her harm.

Thankfully, dragging her out of sight and yelling at the top of his lungs had done the job. No one thought to check on her, and he kept her inside, away from curious eyes.

So, as he approached the unfolding chaos by the river, Rollo had to wonder how this situation had happened once again.

The stubborn woman was standing only a few feet from the rushing water, the sleeves of her dress pushed up to her elbows. Her dark hair was barely contained in a knot on the back of her head, strands hanging down to her shoulders and around her face as she scowled. Rollo had to smirk to himself at the expression on her face. He knew when she was truly angry, and this was one of those moments. Praise Odin he wasn't on the receiving end of this particular rage.

As he moved closer, he heard her voice, sharp and loud as she screamed at the man in the river. The poor man stood up on the mossy rocks, his clothes hanging from his body at the weight of the water. Rollo listened to the foreign string of words streaming from Eda's mouth. She spoke fast, her lips tight and teeth flashing in a universal language of fury. It was fascinating, watching her. When they spoke —the two of them— each word from her lips was calculated, slower from contemplation. But in her native tongue, the woman would race through the words. Rollo wondered if she was even breathing.

"Enough!" He finally interfered, the growing crowd of onlookers parting to let him through. The women stood wide-eyed as Eda threw Rollo a filthy snarl, her face full of hatred, not the respect expected of her.

"I want her tongue!" The man in the river was the first to speak, his furious scream turning his face red. Or perhaps that was embarrassment. "I want this bitch's tongue ripped from her throat!" Rollo hid a growl in his chest. Whatever she'd done, Eda had surely made it difficult for him to fix.

"I will drown you, pig!" Eda yelled from the shore, taking a step towards the water. But Rollo was faster. He was at her side before she could wet her toes, his hands firmly grasping her arms.

"Inside!" He bellowed into her ear. His voice was loud and it brought a hush to the bickering. The farmer, whom he recognized as a man named Bram, trudged from the river, his feet leaving mud with each step. Pulling Eda, Rollo led them both away from the outdoors, ignoring observers. As they moved past, people scurried to continue working, and no matter where he looked, no one would meet Rollo's gaze. They all expected his wrath. They all expected a severe consequence.

Gods be damned.

He could hear Eda muttering in her language as they ducked into his home, her voice quiet but as sharp as a blade. Rollo wished he could understand her furious words.

"You will stay silent if you value your life." He whispered into her ear, shoving her roughly onto her cot where she gruffly remained seated. As soon as the three of them were indoors in privacy, Rollo squared his shoulders and met Bram's eyes.

"Tell me."

"Your slave forgets her place!" Bram snarled, advancing on Eda as if he intended to teach her. Rollo was between them before he could touch her, and when Eda rose from her seat to confront Bram, Rollo shoved her back on her cot.

"Her place is what I say it is." He barked, pushing Bram back from reach.

"She hit me." Bram pointed to his head, reminding Rollo of his niece and nephew and their childish fights. A grin tickled his lips and he brushed his fingers over it.

"And you were defenseless?" Rollo felt Eda shift on the cot behind him, and knew that her smirk would match his own. Bram reddened and made a sound in the back of his throat, like a dog readying to snap at its owner. But Eda spoke first.

"Filthy coward." Rollo could feel her anger breaking like a wave over his back, a wall of heat. But he cranked his brow low and glared at her over his shoulder.

"You will remain silent until I say otherwise." And despite the rage in her eyes, Eda did as he told her. After several moments of nothing but stares, Rollo let out a hard sigh. "Why did you strike him, woman?" Eda blinked at him and lifted her chin in defiance. And it was the defiance that made his blood thicken under his skin. No matter her actions, or her attitude, his thirst for this woman was a constant. "Speak."

She frowned at the order and glared across the room at Bram.

"He deserved it." Rollo knew the charge was coming before Eda had finished speaking, and he was prepared to hold Bram back a second time. Eda merely smirked from her cot as the men struggled, like the threat on her life didn't exist in her mind.

"Lying wench!" Bram threw his weight forward, but Rollo was almost a foot taller than the man. Without much trouble, he forced him away a second time, pushing him out of the house entirely. In the open, Rollo grabbed the man's collar.

"Get back to your land, Bram." He spoke carefully, letting each sound hiss from his teeth with deliberate strength. "Before the daylight is wasted." The man huffed in his face, measuring the look in Rollo's eye. It didn't take long before he took a step back and pulled from Rollo's grasp.

"If she touches me again, I'll kill her." He growled the words while he pointed inside, his eyes flaring with truth. Rollo ground his jaw and said nothing, and eventually Bram backed away.

When Rollo stepped inside the house once again, he felt like yelling until his lungs burned. But his quick entrance allowed him a momentary glimpse of something he hadn't seen before. Eda had lifted her skirt to reveal the skin on her knees, both of which were skinned and bleeding. As soon as Rollo saw this, however, Eda threw her skirt down and glared up at him, her defensive posture back up in full force.

His heart stopped in his chest as the pieces fell together.

"He hurt you." Not a question. Eda stared at the floor, frowning at it.

"I'll survive."

"You **will** tell me why or I will—"

"Will what?" Her eyes burned into his and Rollo set his jaw in fury.

"By our laws, I must punish you." It pained him to even consider it. He wouldn't know how to do it. "Unless…"

Eda stood up and walked to him, her expression like solid stone. The urge to touch those harsh angles was so strong, his fingertips buzzed. The pull she had on him only grew as she moved closer.

"What kind of man can treat another like a dog?" She hissed at him, her breath breaking on his sweaty chest. "What kind of God could allow such cruelty?" Rollo didn't say a word. He wanted to listen for a while. The look in her eyes reminded him how different their lives had been. Reminded him that, despite the months they'd shared a home, he knew so little about Eda and her world. England. A place he'd only plundered and invaded. "If you must harm me for merely defending myself, then do it."

Her conviction hit him. The frown on his brow melted away as she glared into his face.

"A slave is not permitted to strike his owner." He spoke softly, as if he was merely recollecting the rules to himself. "Or any Viking man." But Eda's lips curled in an angry sneer anyway.

"Owner?" With a harsh buck of her head, Eda spat on the floor between them and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You may call me slave, Rollo Lothbrok, but I am no inferior possession."

For the first time in his life, Rollo felt the shame of owning another human being. It hadn't ever occurred to him. The possession of slaves was something as natural as owning goats. But Eda had somehow turned his heart in his chest at the very mention of his possession of her. She was not a slave. Not really. And yet, that was how his kinsmen saw her.

"Owner or not…" Rollo crossed his arms across his chest, fighting against the sick feeling that was growing there. "I need a good reason to keep you alive after this." Eda glared at him, but her lips remained pursed in anger. Taking a small step closer to her, Rollo lowered his voice until it was almost a whisper. "Give me a reason, Eda."

The use of her name turned Eda's expression from night to day. Her brow loosened and lifted, her jaw dropping enough to open her lips. Rollo was tempted to brush his finger under her chin, lift her mouth closer. When she spoke, it was with reluctance.

"I was praying by the river and he ordered me to stop." At the conclusion of her words, Eda looked away. The darting of her gaze told him that the encounter hadn't been that simple. Rollo could only imagine how another man would handle Eda. He'd yell for her to obey, and then use force when she didn't. The blood in Rollo's veins started to boil with anger.

"So you pushed him in the water?" His question distracted him, the memory of her standing on the shore loosening the anger in his tense stance.

"I was taught to defend myself." Eda avoided the question, as usual, turning away to walk back to her cot.

"So he did hurt you." Rollo bit back the urge to growl. She sat quietly for a moment, taking her time before she replied.

"What are the rules now, northman?" Eda cupped her hands over her kneecaps, hiding a flinch. "How does an owner execute his slave for her sins?"

"Yer not my slave."

The silence that fell lingered between them; and Rollo felt her eyes on him as he paced in a small line. The truth wasn't a revelation for either of them. Since the day he'd told her to run, it was clear their dynamic was no longer that of a slave and a master. Eda was something he hadn't been prepared for; a companion he couldn't define.

"Then what am I?"

Her question hung in the air until Rollo knew the answer. Swiping a shirt from the nearby table, he started for the door.

"Let's go." Holding the flap of material aside, he motioned for Eda to follow. She stood but crossed her arms.

"Not until you answer me." With a sigh, he squinted at her.

"Answer or not, woman, you will come with me, walking or otherwise." When Eda didn't budge, Rollo trudged back into the house. She lifted her chin to meet his glare.

"Otherwise."

* * *

Rollo carried Eda over his shoulder like a man hauls sheep to and from the field. He hadn't wanted to travel that way, but he was a man of his word. So he carried her through his entire village, in the middle of the day, towards the little house along the shore.

Eda fussed, as one would expect, but the prying eyes soon silenced her into submission. And once they reached their destination, and her feet were on the ground, she did her best to put as much space between them as possible, her limbs yanked from his arms with an unnecessary urgency. Rollo hid his irritation at this, biting down on his jaw while observing the exterior of the home at which they'd arrived.

"This is the house of the elder." He informed Eda without hushing his voice, letting the deep bass in his chest bellow to the ears of the curious who wandered nearby. Pointing with a finger, her motioned to the door. "The oldest Viking in this village acts as a witness to the Gods." Eda frowned up at him and her eyes nervously examined his face.

"No man can stand for God." She didn't spit the words at him, as he would have expected, yet the fire of her defiance burned steady. Rollo gave her a quick smirk before he started forward into the small home.

"This elder is a woman."

Like many of the other homes in their village, Elder Álof lived in a modest house with a few rooms. When Rollo stepped into the main house, Álof's daughter stood from her perch at the fire, her face flushed by his presence. In honesty, his entrance was pressing on dishonorable, so he slowed his forceful walk and ducked his head in a small greeting.

"I need to speak with the elder." The girl nodded and gestured for him to sit, but Eda's appearance at his back silenced any words the daughter had gathered at her lips. Rollo knew well what the Viking women thought of his English slave. They looked at her with disdain, whispering behind closed doors about him bedding a foreign woman. No one knew the truth, but that didn't matter much now.

"A moment." The daughter gathered her skirts and vanished into the back of the house, leaving Rollo alone with Eda and his thoughts. The woman fidgeted at his side, rubbing her hands. He watched her press her fingers into the spot between her thumb and pointer, massaging it forcefully. It made him wonder how long she'd gone without a day of weaving or working. Surely her hands would be tired.

"Why are we here?" Her voice broke through and he blinked, looking away.

"Ending all this trouble." His words were meant to be cryptic, but Rollo sensed more than suspicion when he met Eda's eyes. In those brown, sharp eyes, he saw fear. And it lanced his heart in an instant.

The elder chose that precise moment to slowly walk into the room, her small body neither frail nor hunched. She was the longest living Viking in their small farming village, and she made the time look like nothing. Rollo dipped his head in greeting.

Eda took a step back. Before she could bolt from the room, as he knew she would have, Rollo grabbed her wrist and held firm, rooting her at his side. She struggled; Gods help him she tore on his hold. But he acted as though she were nothing but a gust of wind as he turned his eyes on the elder.

"You bastard, I should have run from you the moment I had the chance." Eda spat at him now, her fury and fear colliding in an acidic desperation. Thankfully, the elder merely blinked at the struggle, the language lost on her.

Suddenly the barrier of tongues was a blessing.

Drawing from his upbringing, and the memories of his youth, Rollo cleared his throat before addressing Álof in the old language.

"_Elder Álof."_

The woman nodded and stared into his face, making him remember the elders that had once peered down at him as a small boy. It had been years since he'd needed to visit an elder, or seek any formal witness at all. But this, the blasphemy he was committing, needed a witness.

"_Rollo Lothbrok. Why do you seek me this day?" _Álof's voice was strong with authority, and revealed none of her age. She was as solid as a mountain, filling the room and stilling Eda's tugging. The command crossed barriers, even though the woman understood nothing of what had been said. Rollo took a breath and searched for the same strength.

"_This woman, I once claimed her as property. I wish to change my claim." _His heart skipped in his chest but his tone did not waver. Even Eda seemed to hang on his words. And the elder blinked in a guarded surprise. What he was doing was unheard of, foolish, irrational…

"What are you saying?" Eda's voice was trembling, like a reed in the wind. It nearly took the ground out from under him, hearing her genuine fear.

"_You would claim her as what then, a bed slave?" _The elder's words slapped him again. First Eda's chilling voice, then Álof's harsh tone. To everyone, Eda was a slave to be mounted, fucked and used. She was already conquered in their eyes, ruined. Rollo glanced at the proud, English woman at his side and bit down on his jaw.

She was perfect to him.

Looking at her, he saw nothing but beauty. In her dirty skirts, with muddy hands and wild hair, Eda was breathtaking. Even as she feared the worst of him, hated him, he would love her.

He was the ruined one.

"_A servant." _Álof's mouth opened in a little breath of shock, and Eda's gaze ripped back and forth.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, tugging once again. "What have you said?"

"_She will earn her keep, and tend my home." _Rollo continued in the old words, holding Eda's wrist firmly with his eyes on the elder. _"And she will not be any man's property."_

His eyes dropped as he spoke his final words, for he meant much more than what he spoke. If another man touched her again, that man would not survive another sunrise.

Álof gathered her hands in front of her waist, watching him in silence. Then her gaze lifted to Eda and stayed there. She examined without a hint of emotion, one way or another. When she finally replied, she did so while watching Eda.

"_Does she know what you've done for her, Rollo Lothbrok?" _He swallowed and shook his head. A small curl in the elder's lips made Eda fidget at his side. _"Does she know that you love her?"_

This time, it was his mouth that fell open. With a wave of her hand, Álof silenced any denial he could have voiced.

"_I bear witness to your claim, Rollo Lothbrok. In the eyes of the Gods, this woman is free."_

* * *

Pulling Eda home was less difficult the second time. She practically raced him, taking long steps to stay close. And when they were alone inside his home, relief flooded through him.

"She spared me, didn't she?" Eda paced back and forth on the floor, fidgeting with her hands. Rollo closed his eyes for a moment and listened to her breathing, her rushed words. Could he tell her what he'd done? Could he tell her she was free to leave him? "Didn't she?"

"Yes."

Eda fell back onto her cot in silence, staring ahead blankly.

"Praise God." He watched as a tear fell from her eye. "For surely he is great, watching over me as a shepherd guides his flock." The little prayer continued from her lips as her eyes fell closed. And yet Rollo heard none of it. He admired her relief from afar as the words of the elder echoed in his head.

_Does she know what you've done for her, Rollo Lothbrok? Does she know that you love her?_

* * *

**A/N:** I'm making up my own social rules for the Vikings here guys. Hope it doesn't detract from things. Thanks so much for the support! I'll try to have another chapter up soon. :) Love you all._  
_


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